Road Trip Ch 2/6

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A/N: Might I get a tag for this fic? Pretty please and thank you!



Max hummed along with the Counting Crows as the somber voice over the radio talked about some bizarre relationship with a man named Mr. Jones. She thought the whole thing would be best listened to when very, very high, but at least the part with Picasso and Bob Dylan was noteworthy.

She pulled into Ryan’s driveway, popping her neck and trying to loosen the tension as she took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and shut off her car. She checked her pockets, pulled off her sunglasses and whistled softly. The house was massive. Four car garage, trim, somewhere between tudor and colonial, and very large.

Up the front steps, she rang the doorbell, hoping she didn’t wake the kids. Sam without a doubt was up already, a rare, teen-male-early-riser. And indeed it was he who opened the door instead of his father. She smiled down at the 14 year old and his mussed emo boy haircut that was so in vogue with boy-folk these days. “Hello Sam, is your father ready?”

He looked behind him before leaning in to whisper, as obviously they were fellows instead of minor acquaintances. “He’s pissed… him and mom got into a big fight last night.”

“Oh dear…” Max winced. “Don’t give me details, I don’t need to know,”

“I was gonna ask you what you knew… I got back from my friends house last night and missed the whole thing. And Mack and Claire are over at Grandma’s.” he let her in and shut the door behind her, shuffling into the massive kitchen area.

Max shrugged, following and sitting on a bar stool at the island. “Dunno what to tell you, Sam, though it might have to do with our vacation time getting royally… er… messed with,”

He grinned. “You can swear around me, Max, it isn’t like I haven’t already heard the stuff,”

“True, but I prefer my neck length as it is and your mother would hang me,” she grinned right back.

“Ah, hey Dad,” he said looking over her shoulder. “Coffee?”

“Yeah,” Ryan growled softly, tromping down the stairs and setting his bag down with a thunk. He barely even gave Max a glance before taking the cup of coffee. “Let’s go.”

“Would you like to finish your coffee? Perhaps say good bye to your loved ones?” Max offered lightly, as though completely unbothered by his surly attitude. Sam’s eyes darted curiously between the two adults.

“Catch you later Sam, be good for your mother,” he turned back to her, setting his nearly untouched coffee back down. “Let’s go.”

She blinked and sighed. “Later Sam, watch your mouth,”

“Later Max, Dad,” he nodded, frowning a little as the two left.

Once Ryan’s bag was in the trunk and both of them buckled in, Ryan crossed his arms and glared at the garage door in front of them. “Say it,” he growled.

“Say what?” she asked, backing out of the driveway.

“Ask me what’s pissing me off.”

“I have no desire to open that can of worms, Ryan,” she sighed, shifting gears and starting off down the street past all of the lush houses, The Cars singing cheerily on the radio.

“I can hear you judging me, Maxine, so lets just get it over with,” he spat, shutting off the music.

She turned and fixed him with an icy stare, though her voice came out even and quite logical. “Don’t make me kick you out of my car, Ryan. I’ll be nice if you do, so lets not wade through you’re personal problems unless you can be a courteous human being. Until then, take a fuckin’ nap.”

He opened and shut his mouth several times, staring at her as she dismissed him by turning back to the road. His outrage nearly made him open the door and get out right then and there, but instead, he closed his mouth and turned to the window, watching as his familiar home streets blazed by in the pre-dawn paleness.

It wasn’t long before he was snoring gently, taking his fuckin’ nap.


He jerked awake suddenly, shouts and recent obscenities ringing in his ears to find they were stopped, in a parking lot at some diner he didn’t recognize in the middle of nowhere, and Max was getting out of the car. “Why we stopped?” he grated, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Breakfast.” She said simply, locking her door and making for the diner.

He scowled after her, sitting in the car for a moment or two before steeling himself and getting out, locking the door and following.

Max was already being seated, and with a glance around, he followed, sitting across from her and asking for a coffee. The waitress gave him a disgruntled smile, beaming a real one to Max before disappearing to get them their coffee. Max pulled out a map from her purse and unfolded it, looking at it and ignoring him completely. Ryan had nearly settled himself into the tiny booth when she just had to open her mouth. “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh you just had to fuckin’ start, didn’t you?” he rubbed at his eyes. To her gaze, “Yeah, I slept well… so what?”

She pursed her lips at him, eyes narrow before turning to the waitress with a small smile. “I think we’re ready to order,”

They ate in silence, or at least she did while Ryan hardly even touched his coffee, glaring at her. She ignored him completely, pissing him off by simply refusing to fight. In the meantime, he ignored all of the looks the other customers and wait staff were giving the both of them. When the dishes were cleared and she sat once more, ignoring him, sipping her coffee and looking at the map, he could hardly contain his fury. “Are you gonna fucking acknowledge me?” he hissed.

“No,”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re being an asshole.” She sighed. “I need to use the ladies, and then we’ll go. I suggest you use the facilities here as well. The next town won’t be for 200 miles or so,”

He sneered and left the booth, storming out the door, a few dollars for his cup of coffee on the table. Max left a large tip for the poor waitress, shaking her head.

When she emerged from the diner, hands still trying to dry from that damn blow dryer, Ryan was already on his third cigarette. He threw it to the ground, squished it, and followed her to the car, slamming the door shut and glaring out the window. She drummed the top of the car with her long fingers, trying to control her temper, praying for patience. But her childhood and life had not prepared her for long endurance tests. She only hoped Ryan would understand why she killed him.

No patience, sorry you’re dead.

He would understand.

Back on the road, a long stretch of desert, Ryan watched the mountainous hills made of former sea floor rose and fell as the road cut straight though them. He watched the red, tan and black lines of different types of rock dance and tumble, frozen forever. Clay, basalt, shale…

Soon, the hills disappeared, replaced with stunted junipers in clumps, then scatterings of pine trees. They stopped by a fishing hole for a rest stop, Max having a quick smoke break as Ryan hurried into the restrooms for a much needed leak.

She stood watching the families playing in the water, fishing, watching the crawfish and smiled softly. She’d never have kids herself, but they were okay from a distance. She wasn’t against having children she just… she didn’t want to turn into her mother, and certainly didn’t want to subject any child to an imitation of her father, even a pale one.

“I took Mack and Sam here once,” Ryan said from behind her. She turned and frowned at him. His face was closed down, lost in a memory that should have been making him smile. He did, briefly. “Together, we caught a small trout. They were horrified at the idea of cleaning and eating it, so we let it go and just drove to a town for pancakes. Pat was pregnant with Claire,” his face crumpled for a second before hardening again and glaring at her. “Can we get going? I want to get there before I die.”

She gave out a pissed off giggle and followed after one last, deep drag.


Soon they were surrounded by a thick pine forest, the smell of it invading their car and making them roll the windows down, filling the car with the scent that smelled of Christmas. Suddenly the atmosphere was lighter, and Ryan even switched the radio on. “So… how come you don’t have any kids?” he asked quietly, not looking at her.

She darted a glance over at him before returning to the road. “Well… I don’t think I would work as a mother… I love kids, but they aren’t for me.”

“Afraid of them?” he asked knowingly.

She chuckled. “No… afraid of me…”

He turned to look at her.

She sighed, shrugging more to herself. “I grew up in a harsh environment… my dad drank, slept around, beat me… mom drank also but she functioned enough to keep up house…” she chuckled again, dryly. “Let’s just say… I didn’t have much choice in my role models…”

“What about CPS?”

She laughed outright. “Are you forgetting where I’m from? You don’t talk about such things over there… no… you hide anything that makes you remotely offensive, act proper, and don’t report… anything.”

Ryan was silent for a moment or two, and Max felt a little thankful. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault,” she dismissed it.

The car was silent save for the chatter on the radio, until she turned to Ryan. “So, is there any particular reason why you were so upset this morning?”

Ryan’s scowl returned and he turned away from her. “None of your damn business.”

He was nearly thrown into the dashboard when she slammed on the brakes. Thankfully no one was behind them when the tires squealed and kicked up a fog of burnt rubber smoke. “Ryan Stiles, I swear to whoever listens, I will kick you out of this car right now if you don’t tell me what crawled up your ass.” She spat. “I tell you my fucked up history, and just when I think we’ve broken the ice you show me where you think I should stuff it.”

He peeled himself off the dashboard and glared at her. “Know what Max, I don’t need you in my problems, they’re fucked up enough as it is! So fuck off and stuff it, because it is none of your damn business,”

“Is that why you were trying to drag me into it this morning when I picked you up? Because is sure as shit sounded like you were fucking inviting me into your life to play Oprah or fucking Dr. Phil!”

He flung off his buckle and nearly fell out of the car, straightening his jacket and walking down the road. He heard the car shut off, the door open and slam shut and walked a little faster, his hands jammed into his pockets. “Ryan Lee Stiles, get your ass back here and argue with me like a fucking man!” she shouted.

“Fuck you, Weiz!” he shouted back at her.

“You goddamned pussy, just who the hell do you think you are,” her voice neared him and he turned to keep her from touching him. She stopped right in front of him, nearly towering in her rage. “Who the hell do you think you are that you can just treat someone like this! Is it because you’re my boss? Because I can fix that easy! Now get back in the fucking car, or I swear I will fucking leave you here to get eaten by wolves or rabid deer or something and tell Dan what a fucking prima donna you are!”

He glared at her, and she glared right back.

“You know what?” she said softly, hands shaking as she clenched them tightly. “I’m going to do just that,”

“Max,” he started.

“No. Know why? Because you’ve been an asshole to me since the day I met you, and it’s only gotten worse.” She strode back to the car, opening the trunk and yanking his stuff out to the ground. She slammed it shut and opened the car door. “You sir, are a bastard who takes his problems out on people who have done nothing but be professional and courteous to you and your family. Have a nice fucking day.”

He watched, the wind snatched from his self righteous sails during her tirade.

The car whined, kicked over with a sputtering cough before grinding and groaning to a halt, only a few feet from where it had been. He heard her curse from here. He sighed as the car whined and groaned before it refused flat out to kick over.

She got out, slamming the door shut so hard the window shattered. She stared at it for a split second before leaning against the hood. He picked up his bag that she’d dumped onto the road. She giggled a little hysterically before popping the hood and grabbing her own bag and taking off down the road.

“Max,” he called, but she didn’t stop or even hint that she’d heard him. He grudgingly broke into a trot and caught up with her. “There’s a town near here, we can get your car towed there…”

She stopped, turning to him. Her eyes were wide to hold back the tears. “What, you’re being nice now? Why? You were on a roll,”

“Max-”

“Fuck you Ryan… just leave me alone,” she started back up again. He caught up to her again, saying nothing, and watched as she slowly rebuilt herself. “How far?”

“Less than a mile,” he replied softly.

She was silent, and he almost prodded her to make sure she wasn’t in a walking coma or something. “Good. Don’t walk so close to me.”